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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255368">dont play god</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcanbarbie/pseuds/trashcanbarbie'>trashcanbarbie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>unconnected klaroline drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Vampire Diaries (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Caroline Forbes, Caroline Forbes Goes to New Orleans, Caroline Forbes-centric, F/M, Klaus Mikaelson Has A Heart, New Orleans, Pining Klaus Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson &amp; Caroline Forbes Friendship, Vampire Caroline Forbes, bar chats</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:28:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcanbarbie/pseuds/trashcanbarbie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline's sitting at the crowded bar, drinking sugary little drinks idly. It's late, and warm, and humid, and she’s all too aware of herself, in the way that only vampires are, every nerve sparking like loose wire, the air around her practically cracking with electricity.</p><p>“Hello, stranger," a warm voice says behind her. She can sense his weight hovering over her shoulder, and normally she’d dismember the guy creeping on her, but today she doesn't.</p><p>She stirs her drink, once, with the straw, then abandons it. “Stranger?" she asks, voice careful and limiting, "not love?”</p><p>She turns, and he grins when he says, “I can say that if you want.” He looks just the same, and she’s just realising how much she’s missed him.</p><p>She shakes her head, simply. “Didn't say that.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caroline Forbes &amp; Rebekah Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>unconnected klaroline drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>dont play god</h2></a>
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      <span>Caroline's sitting at the crowded bar, drinking sugary little drinks </span>
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        <span>It's late, and warm, and humid, and she’s all too aware of herself, in the way that only vampires are, every nerve sparking like loose wire, the air around her </span>
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      <span>“Hello, stranger," a warm voice says behind her. </span>
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        <span>She can sense his weight hovering over her shoulder, and </span>
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        <span>normally</span>
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        <span> she’d dismember the guy creeping on her, but today she doesn't</span>
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      <span>She stirs her drink, once, with the straw, then abandons it. “Stranger?" she asks, voice careful and limiting, "not love?”</span>
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      <span>She turns, and he grins when he says, “I can say that if you want.” He looks </span>
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      <span>She shakes her head, </span>
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      <span>He nods, and says, “it's been a long time, Caroline." At the mention of her name, all electricity disappears. Caroline inhales </span>
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      <span>, relieved, because all that can get awfully tiring. </span>
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      <span>“It has," she nods, and he sits at the bar.</span>
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      <span>“How are your little friends?” he asks her, out of decorum, but she knows he hasn't thought twice about them since he saw them last.</span>
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      <span>She shrugs, “I'm sure you don't care.”</span>
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      <span>He scoffs, decides to play the knight, "I'm not that heartless, Caroline. I can take an interest."</span>
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      <span>“Can you take a hint?" she says </span>
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        <span>rudely</span>
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      <span>, but he only smiles and leans closer like she's admitted something.</span>
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      <span>“You're the one sitting in my bar, not any other in New Orleans."</span>
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      <span>“I like the ambience," she says </span>
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      <span>, and wonders if she </span>
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      <span>“Is that all you like?” he asks </span>
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        <span>“Oh, I love this city,” she laughs, and the drink must be more alcoholic than she thought, because her head is spinning and golden</span>
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      <span>“Fun, isn’t it?” he says </span>
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        <span>She takes a breath, lifts her hand for the bartender, "we don't </span>
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        <span> have the same kind of fun," she says as he walks towards her</span>
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      <span>. It's convenient, this way, he can't shoot anything snarky back. </span>
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      <span>"Yes?" the bartender says, a tall, broad man with elaborate tattoos. He looks at Klaus </span>
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        <span>warily</span>
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      <span>, and her even more </span>
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      <span>. She wonders why he seems so afraid of her.</span>
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      <span>"</span>
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      <span>"Is that all love, you're not hungry?" Klaus asks her </span>
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        <span>quietly</span>
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      <span>. The bartender stiffens, because he knows what that means. Knows he couldn't fight it. </span>
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      <span>"Not tonight," she says, and the bartender </span>
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        <span>He's about to say something about blood bags and </span>
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        <span>perfectly</span>
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        <span> good bartenders when, “Brother,” Rebekah announces, and stalks through the crowd</span>
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      <span>. Heads turn to watch them, but Klaus </span>
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      <span>Her eyes skip right over Caroline, and then dart back to her. “Caroline,” she announces, eyes wide. </span>
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      <span>“Hello, Rebekah,” Caroline smiles, friendly as she can. “It’s been a long time.”</span>
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      <span>“I've </span>
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      <span> in a box for half of it,” she says </span>
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        <span>dirtily</span>
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      <span>“Well, sister, you shouldn't have sold me out,” he says </span>
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      <span>“I did not —” she starts to protest, but Klaus raises a finger. </span>
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      <span>“We </span>
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      <span>Rebekah sighs, plastering a fake smile on her face. Her eyes switch to Caroline again, “I didn't know Klaus was seeing you.”</span>
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      <span>“He's not,” Caroline says. </span>
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      <span>She raises her eyebrows, “Oh.” She looks at Klaus, eyebrows raised, mean look on her face. </span>
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      <span>Before she can say anything, Caroline explains, “I'm </span>
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      <span>Rebekah raises her eyebrows, “on what business?” Klaus looks at her too. </span>
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      <span>She smiles, and feels powerful. “I'm not sure yet.” Is this what they feel like all the time, with bartenders bowing to them, and anything they want?</span>
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      <span>Her water comes, and she drinks half of it straight away. That calms the carnival in her head, a little. </span>
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      <span>Rebekah watches her for a moment, then turns to Klaus. “Elijah and that dreadful witch he's toting around want you. I've </span>
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        <span>sent</span>
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      <span>“I don't care,” Klaus says, </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>bluntly</span>
      </span>
      <span>, and downs his drink. </span>
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      <span>Rebekah sighs and rolls her eyes, “Klaus,” she </span>
      <span class="qualifier">
        <span>just</span>
      </span>
      <span> says </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>emphatically</span>
      </span>
      <span>, almost desperate. Caroline wonders what’s going on, why Elijah has a witch, why they need him, and then decides she doesn't care. </span>
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      <span>He leans forward, dictating his speech with a pointed finger, “tell them I’m with Caroline.”</span>
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      <span>She rolls her eyes. “This is what I get for agreeing to be messenger.”</span>
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      <span>Klaus shrugs and chuckles, “grab a bite on your way out.” </span>
      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span>Caroline looks at the bartender again, “make it worth your effort,” he adds </span>
      </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>scathingly</span>
      </span>
      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span>, </span>
      </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>mockingly</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
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      <span>Rebekah sighs, “I hate to listen to you.”</span>
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      <span>“But you do anyway,” he laughs </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>loudly</span>
      </span>
      <span>, eyes shining. God, he looks happy. </span>
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      <span>She starts to turn, so Caroline says, “It was nice to see you again, Rebekah.” She catalogues her, </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>really</span>
      </span>
      <span> looks at her. She looks </span>
      <span class="qualifier">
        <span>just</span>
      </span>
      <span> about the same, </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>really</span>
      </span>
      <span>. She’s chopped off half of her hair and is far more trendy in this age than Caroline, but she’s got the same face. </span>
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      <span>She laughs, as if it’s absurd. “Is it?”</span>
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      <span>Caroline nods, “It actually is.” She’s a good person, Caroline thinks. She’s </span>
      <span class="qualifier">
        <span>just</span>
      </span>
      <span> too old and too tired and too lost. </span>
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      <span>Rebekah blushes </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>pinkly</span>
      </span>
      <span> as she gets up, but she hovers by them still. “You've grown, and it looks well on you,” she says </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>quietly</span>
      </span>
      <span> to Caroline after a moment of hesitation, as if debating to say it. </span>
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      <span>“That's a compliment,” Klaus translates, taking a sip of his bourbon.</span>
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      <span>Caroline knew it was, and she appreciates it. “Thanks,” she says </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>genuinely</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
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      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span>Rebekah smiles, although it seems plastic and leaves, pulling a boy plucked from the crowd with her on her way out</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
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      <span>“Don't mind her. She's still cross,” Klaus rolls her eyes like she’s being stupid. </span>
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      <span>“Oh, about you leaving her daggered for fifty years? No shit,” Caroline says </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>scornfully</span>
      </span>
      <span>, defending her for some unknown reason. Girl code? Some white flag. </span>
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      <span>“To be fair, she quite likes this new world,” Klaus offers, as if that makes it any better. </span>
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      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span>“She would have liked it if she could have aged into it,” Caroline sniffs </span>
      </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>haughtily</span>
      </span>
      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span>, riding that wave of moral superiority as long as she can</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
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      <span>He hums with consideration, then says, “how about you? Do you like it?” She thinks it’s </span>
      <span class="qualifier">
        <span>just</span>
      </span>
      <span> a tactic to switch topics — she </span>
      <span>knows</span>
      <span> — but she answers anyway. </span>
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      <span>She shrugs, sighs </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>heavily</span>
      </span>
      <span>, “better than the last.”</span>
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      <span>They lapse into silence, Klaus </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>obviously</span>
      </span>
      <span> thinking. She lets him, for a minute, and then gets tired of it. </span>
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      <span>“What are you mulling about?” she asks, and leans on the wooden bar to watch him </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>closely</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
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      <span>He sighs, drops his drink, turns towards her. “Come on, love, why are you </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>really</span>
      </span>
      <span> here?” he asks, trying to be all analytical with her. </span>
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      <span>“Don't compel me,” she asks, looking right into his eyes. It would be so </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>terribly</span>
      </span>
      <span> easy for him, it would. He could even make her forget after. </span>
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      <span>He shakes his head </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>slightly</span>
      </span>
      <span>. “I wouldn't dream of it.” She believes him. </span>
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      <span>“I'm here because I am immortal, now, and I’d like to see the world. The fact you're here has nothing to do with me.”</span>
    </p>
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      <span>He leans away from her, and throws back his own drink. “I told you, once, about great cities and art and music. Seems you've finally listened to me.”</span>
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      <span>She chuckles, and drinks her water. “Seems I finally have,” she murmurs. </span>
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      <span>“Caroline, I…” he starts, losing steam almost immediately.</span>
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      <span>“What, Klaus?” </span>
      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span>she asks, waiting for some British declaration, as it’s always come, since she was seventeen forever</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
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      <span>“I’ve seen a lot of things, in my long life. I’ve lived a lot of lives, but you…” he trails off </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>softly</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
    </p>
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      <span>“Do you have a point?” she asks him, even though she knows it, already. </span>
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      <span>He swallows and says, “I am </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>thoroughly</span>
      </span>
      <span> convinced that I love you, and have for some time now.”</span>
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      <span>She sighs and says, “Klaus Mikaelson, I don't know why, and I don't know how, but you were right. About us. We have a connection, as much as I’d like to deny it sometimes, but it’s there.”</span>
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      <span>He smiles </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>widely</span>
      </span>
      <span>. “For the second time, you admit it.”</span>
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      <span>She sighs again, </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>wearily</span>
      </span>
      <span>, and accepts, “I do.”</span>
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      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span>“Caroline Forbes, you drive me </span>
      </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>absolutely</span>
      </span>
      <span class="hardreadability">
        <span> mad,” he says, at odds with his happiness, the happiness excluding from every pore of him</span>
      </span>
      <span>. </span>
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      <span>Caroline holds back a sigh as she bites out, “me too. </span>
      <span class="qualifier">
        <span>Just</span>
      </span>
      <span> not </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>metaphorically</span>
      </span>
      <span>.”</span>
    </p>
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      <span>“You want another?” he asks, ignoring her as he calls over the bartender.</span>
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      <span>“No, no,” she shakes her head, “I've gotta go.”</span>
    </p>
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      <span class="veryhardreadability">
        <span>The bartender arrives at the bar, and Klaus holds up a hand to pause him, as she pouts, and says to her, “Caroline, you’ve </span>
      </span>
      <span class="qualifier">
        <span>just</span>
      </span>
      <span class="veryhardreadability">
        <span> admitted out mutual love for each other, after I cannot even count how many years of denial, and now you’ve decided the night </span>
      </span>
      <span class="passivevoice">
        <span>is done</span>
      </span>
      <span>?”</span>
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      <span>She laughs, then shrugs. “I'm tired. Only so much of your bullshit I can put up with.”</span>
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      <span class="veryhardreadability">
        <span>She pushes off the bar and stalks though the busy pub, but he turns and watches her go, calls out with a satisfied look on his face, “You'll marry me one day, Caroline,” he calls out </span>
      </span>
      <span class="adverb">
        <span>lazily</span>
      </span>
      <span class="veryhardreadability">
        <span>, with a satisfied look on his face</span>
      </span>
      <span>.</span>
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      <span>She snorts at him. “Don't play god,” she yells back, and walks out, all eyes on them.</span>
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      <span>She hears Klaus’ laughter, but it's lost in the warm night soon enough. </span>
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